Faith
by The Fangirl92
Summary: When you have done every thing you can, there is only one thing left to do.


Hello! I just started writing and I am not great. Please give me constructive criticism so I can get better.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The lair was quiet, so quiet that a pin falling would break the silence. Usually the lair was filled with various sounds, like Michelangelo's laughter, Leonardo's and Raphael's voices as they bickered, or the TV as it played his father's soap operas. It was the kind of silence that Donatello longed for when he was working in his lab. How many times had his brother's noise hindered him from a great discovery? Donatello usually relished the quiet moments in the lair.

He didn't tonight.

Donatello felt like he was slowly drowning in the silence. The silence was pushing against his chest, making it hard to breathe. He looked over at the figure lying on the cot in his lab, hoping to reassure himself. Instead, the pressure on his chest increased.

If Don hadn't known better, he would have sworn that the being lying in his lab wasn't his little brother. Mikey was always moving like he was on a sugar high. Even while sleeping, Mikey would toss and turn or his legs and arms would twitch. The being's only movement was the rise and fall of its chest. Michelangelo had never looked so… lifeless.

Don tore his eyes from his brother looked at his computer. When Michelangelo had first become sick, everyone simply thought it was a bad case of the flu. Usually at least one of them would become sick every once in a while due to their home being in the sewers. It was only when Mikey coughed up sputum tinted with blood did they realize that it was something worse.

Don shuddered at the memory. He would never forget the apprehension he felt when Mikey coughed up that small amount of blood. The fear had only increased after Don had realized that Mikey had pneumonia. Unlike the humans they lived under, the family couldn't simply take Mikey to a hospital. The entire family had been so afraid; they all knew how deadly pneumonia could be without the proper treatment. Donatello had used all his medical knowledge just to keep Michelangelo alive.

Then one day April had descended into the lair like an angel brandishing the medicine Mikey needed. April had some friends who were doctors who she had managed to convince to give her the medicine.

Yet Don still remained fearful. Mikey had been given his medication rather late into his sickness. By the time April had got the medicine, Mikey already had such difficulty breathing and Don had to give him an oxygen mask to reduce the strain on his lungs. Talking or breathing deeply was painful, making the usual chatty turtle silent. Michelangelo had already been on the medication for a week, and he still wasn't showing signs of improvement. Don feared that the medication hadn't come in time.

This is why Don still found himself in his lab. Every spare moment he got would be spent on his computer, looking up different methods of treatment for pneumonia. There had to be something he could do to help his little brother. He was a genius after all. Yet hours upon hours of research only lead to the same thing: information that he already posed.

"Donatello?"

Don jumped at the sound of his father's voice and looked over to the entrance of his lab. Master Splinter stood at the door, looking older than he ever had. His youngest child's illness had taken a toll on him. Splinter's fur seemed haggard and his clothing looked more worn and patched the ever.

"Why are you still on the computer? Come, let us go eat something," Splinter said in a soothing voice.

Don's stomach rolled at the mere mention of food, "No thanks Sensei. I want to do some more research on possible treatments for Mikey."

Splinter narrowed his eyes slightly, "And have you made any progress?" Donatello's silence was all the answer he needed. The aged rat walked over to his second youngest son and placed his hand on Don's shoulder. "Take a break my son. You have done all you can."

Donatello looked at his father with watery eyes. "But father, there has to be something I can do! I'm supposed to be a genius remember? I-I ha-ate feeling so…."

"Powerless?" Don looked at his father in surprise. "My son, in this world there are only certain things we can control. Have you done everything in your power to help your brother?"

"Wha-at?" Donatello seemed shocked that his father would even ask that question. "Of course!"

"Then why do continue to sit here? My son, there is nothing more that you can do," Splinter told his son his eyes shining with kindness. "There is only one thing that you can do now my son."

"What is that father?" Donatello asked, a few tears escaping from his eyes.

The old rat reached over and gently wiped his son's tears away.

"Have faith. Have faith that you brother will fight this sickness."

ONE WEEK LATER:

Donatello sat next to his little brother while reading a book on advanced physics, feeling much more relaxed. Michelangelo had finally started to get better. Mikey's coughing fits were less frequent and he was less fatigued than he had been.

Yet, despite his advancements, Michelangelo was still not out of the woods. Michelangelo still had difficulty breathing and, much to his family's ire, still was in pain.

But it was enough to ease the tension in the lair. The atmosphere was much less somber than it was last week.

"Mmmmm, Donnie?"

Donatello moved his gaze from his book to his little brother. Michelangelo skin wasn't the sickly, pale, color it had been the past couple weeks. The baby blue eyes Mikey was known for weren't cloudy and dull, but bright and sparkling. He almost looked like the happy, bubbly Michelangelo Donatello was used to seeing.

"Mikey, I told you not talk unless absolutely necessary," Don lightly scolded. He placed the book on the floor. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

The smile Mikey gave Don was the brightest smile he had seen on his little brother's face in weeks. "No, I feel so much better dude! I am in a lot less pain Donnie and it doesn't hurt to talk anymore."

Donatello felt a mixture of emotions at once: happiness, joy, relief. His little brother, his happy, sweet little brother was going to be okay. Donatello felt the pressure on his chest disappear.

"Took you long enough to fix me," Mikey teased.

Donatello felt those words tug at his heartstrings. That one sentence meant more to Don than Mikey ever would know. That one sentence told Don that Mikey believed that Don would fix him. It illustrated the faith Michelangelo had in his brother. And that meant more to Donatello then anything. Donatello resolved to have more faith in his brother next time. After all, if his brother could have such faith in him, why couldn't he have faith in his brother?

"I'm sorry," Don chuckled. "I'll work faster next time. Now why don't I get you some soup?"

"Make sure Master Splinter makes it!" Mikey said, his face morphing into a look of horror. "I still remember what happened to my kitchen the last time you, Leo, and Raph tried to cook! I want my kitchen intact, do you hear me?"

Donatello just laughed as he stood up and walked out of the room.

**A/N:** (Comes out from hiding.) Well how was it? Feed the hungry author so I can get better please. Thanks for reading!


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